Let There Be Light

Since my surgery, I have had a bouquet of remarks from all kinds of medical staff about my attitude. I hear on almost a daily basis praise of inspiration and grace... but do I really deserve that?

Sure, I know I am a good patient. I never complain when my toothbrush doesn't get rinsed out and sits in my spit-container all night. I never complain when my meal is smothered in gravy, leaving barely a gasp left from the meat underneath. I never complain about not being able to get out of my bed. I never complain about my lotion being left just a centimeter out of my reach. BUT all of this, by no means, equates to such praise of character.

I have been intentionally convincing myself as the days shorten that there must be some very unwilling souls in this place. It must be hard to work with so many non-compliant patients. However, it wasn't until just a second ago that I realized that it wasn't truly the case. In chatting it up with my day-nurse, as I do quite frequently, I learned that these patients were no different than me, physically. Most were "flap" patients on bed rest at different stages of their protocol. Most had family and friends that came to visit with fists full of homemade goodies and fresh flowers. But there was a difference. My nurse pointed out to me something so obvious, something that I have known all along. Something that I never knew to be such a gift. It is the outlook that I create for myself and the actions that I make because of it all.

Starting to understand a little bit of what is complimented towards me, I feel a bit shy, like the first time a boy ever told me I was pretty. That is the kind of feeling I have about it... boy, I am strange. I now surrender to the notion that I do see the light in things more frequently and at a greater wavelength than others, but does that truly make me inspirational? I think that it makes me in tuned and close to seeing the natural way that life makes present... and I suppose I AM proud of that. There, I admitted it.

I am proud of myself.
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The countdown begins... less than 3 weeks to go and only a few more days of flat bed rest.
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Let there be light.